Friday Night Coffee
by castlelove1221
Summary: EO friendship...just Elliot and Olivia going to get coffee on a Friday night and the conversation they have while sitting together...I don't want to say anything else, you'll just have to read to see what happens!


**Author's Note: So this story is just something I thought of...it's kind of in character and kind of not...and I took some authorial liberties with certain elements but I like the way it turned out. Hope you enjoy! And reviews are always appreciated :) **

**Oh, yeah...I don't own anything related to SVU.**

Friday Night Coffee

When his phone rang, he was sitting on his couch watching some movie that she probably would have picked had it been any other night Friday night. He leaned over the arm of the couch to grab his phone off the end table and smiled when he read her name on the screen.

"Hey, you. I thought you had a—"

"Are you busy?" she interrupted.

"Not at all," he said. "Usual?"

"Yeah," she replied. "See you in twenty."

Elliot walked into Charlie's Café fifteen minutes later and was relieved to find their table empty in spite of the large Friday night crowd. As he made his was to the booth in the back, no one bothered to look away from their tables to notice the newcomer amongst them. The one person that did notice Elliot's arrival was Mason, a Brooklyn College student originally from South Carolina who was always working when Elliot and Olivia came in for coffee. Mason acknowledged Elliot but continued to work around their table because he knew Olivia would be joining Elliot shortly. She always did.

A few minutes after Elliot sat down at their table, Olivia walked through the front door. While she made her way to the back of the restaurant, Elliot noticed that most of the men around her looked up when she walked past. Although she looked a little flustered, Elliot admired the simplistic elegance that she carried with her and smirked as all the other men seemed to do the same. As she approached their table, it became clear to him that she had been crying as her eyes were no longer their chocolate brown color but had darkened to the point where the iris was almost as black as the pupil. He didn't have time to ask her about anything, though, because as soon as Olivia sat down, Mason walked up to their table.

"Hey ya'll! I didn't think I was gonna see you two tonight. Olivia, didn't you have a—"

"Hey, Mason," Elliot interjected quickly. "Can we just have our usual?"

"Sure, Elliot," Mason replied with a nod. "Coming right up."

When Mason walked back towards the kitchen, Olivia gave Elliot an appreciative glance. While they waited for their coffee, neither spoke, though Elliot knew that Olivia would talk when she was ready. Even after Mason delivered their drinks, however, Olivia continued to avert her eyes from Elliot's and stared into the steam pouring out of her mug.

"Olivia," he warned.

"Elliot," she replied in the same tone, looking up from her mug, "you know I hate when you use that tone."

"Well, it got your attention didn't it?" he replied.

She shrugged and looked away.

"I know you want to talk about it," he urged. "What happened? Was he a jerk? Did he at least take you someplace nice?"

"Yes, of course he took me someplace nice! This was actually the best date I've had in a long time!" she began sarcastically. "It went _so_ well that in only two hours we realized we are _completely_ perfect together. Michael—that's his name by the way, Michael Tweedsmuir—dropped me at my apartment while he went home to gather up a few things so that he can move in with me later tonight. And the wedding's next week. Wednesday. I told him I just needed some time to break the news to you."

She paused before adding: "So there you go."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she quickly continued: "Oh, and he asked if you would be his best man—his first choice broke his finger or leg or something in some freak gardening accident, so I told him I'd ask you."

He decided to play along for now, knowing she was more upset then she was trying to let him believe. "I would be honored! But unfortunately I won't be able to be his best man."

"Really? Why not? Are you busy next week or something? Because if you are, you better cancel whatever it is. I expect you at my wedding."

"Well, no, I'm not busy, but won't it be hard for me to be his best man and your maid of honor at the same time?" he asked as he leaned back and rested his arm against the seat.

He smirked as he continued, "I don't know if I can pull off a bridesmaid dress and a best man suit at the same time. I bet Patrick Dempsey could in that new movie of his—what's it called?—but I'm no Patrick," he said as he tried to stifle his laughter.

"Yeah, I guess it would be difficult," she laughed. "You're definitely _not_ Patrick Dempsey. He's _much _more attractive."

Elliot scrunched his lips into a pout, making Olivia laugh even harder. When her laughter subsided, she took a drink of her coffee and looked back at Elliot. Her smile had faded and he could see in her eyes that the time for joking had passed, but he waited, occasionally slurping his coffee while they sat in silence.

She took another sip of her coffee before speaking again. "Actually," she sighed, "it was terrible."

"I know," he said, reaching across the table to take her hand, running his thumb back and forth across it as he waited for her to continue.

"It started out nice enough," she began. "I thought this one might have actually worked. Longer than two hours anyway."

"What happened?" he asked.

"I don't even know! That's always the million-dollar question. Somewhere between sitting down to dinner and getting up to leave, something happened, and he couldn't get me home fast enough," she replied. "I think his tires actually left skid marks on the pavement as he gunned it away from my building."

"I'm so sorry, Olivia," he replied. "I wish—" he started to continue, but instead he stopped and released her hand. He couldn't bring himself to say that he wished things had worked out the way she was hoping.

They were silent for awhile as each finished their coffee. After swallowing the rest of the lukewarm liquid, Olivia reached over and took his hand in hers again before she continued.

"I want to get married, you know?" she said in a tone barely above a whisper.

"I do," he replied, still holding her hand.

"I've already got it all planned out in my head. I want to find someone that I can be friends with. And I want to marry him in the spring when all the flowers have just started blooming. The wedding would be in Central Park, I think." She sat back against her seat and lifted her eyes towards the ceiling as if picturing everything about which she was talking.

After a moment, she looked back at Elliot and noticed that he had raised one of his eyebrows in bewilderment, so she quickly added, "A bit sappy and sentimental, I know, but it's what I want."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't patronize," Elliot said as he reached over and squeezed her hand. "If that's what you want, then I—" he faltered. She tilted her head to the side and waited for him to finish.

He swallowed: "—then I want you to have it."

She sighed, resting her chin on one hand and tracing circles around the top of her mug with the index finger of her other hand. "Maybe that's my whole problem: I want to get married. Maybe these men can sense that. Once they meet me they realize, 'Shit, this one's looking for commitment!' so they run like hell in the other direction."

He squinted his eyes a little and scrunched his nose before replying: "Nah, that's not it. You're just too good for them."

"That's so cliché," she said, staring at her empty mug, "but thank you." As she thanked him, she lifted her eyes to look at him and the sides of her mouth curved into a smile indiscernible to anyone else.

She set her mug down on the table and tucked her hands under her legs. When he did the same, she asked whose turn it was to pay the bill, knowing that he would say—

"It's mine," he replied, signaling to Mason that they were ready to leave. Mason promptly brought their check and set it in front of Elliot, smiling at their argument, knowing they fought about this almost every week.

"Are you sure? 'Cause I'm pretty damn sure you paid last time," she bickered, pretending to be angry about who was to pay.

"I got it tonight," he stated as he picked up the slip and walked it to the register. She remained at the table until Elliot had finished talking to the cashier and signaled that it was time to go. When she caught up with him at the door, she linked her arm through his and they walked out in unison strides, continuing for a few blocks in their comfortable silence.

"You know, I was only half-joking before," Elliot said as he abruptly stopped walking and turned to face Olivia.

"About what?" she asked.

"About you being too good for them. If these guys don't see what an amazing person you are, then you don't want to be with them anyway. Besides, if you don't find a man before—"

"Don't even say it," she warned.

"Say what?" he asked as he shrugged his shoulders and blinked his eyes, feigning innocence.

She smirked at his childish antics and glared as she said, "You were about to say that if I don't find someone before I'm forty then I can just marry you, right?"

"Nnooo," he answered. "I wouldn't dream of it! But now that you mention it…" his voice tapered off and he paused while she stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Nah, that would never work out," he finished.

"Oh, so now I'm too good for you too?"

"Nah," he started, "_I'm_ way too good for _you_."

Her eyes widened in mock horror and she pulled her arm back to punch him. Before she could make contact with his arm, he wrapped it around her shoulders and pulled her into his side, laughing as she growled in frustration.

"Asshole," she said, but he could feel her smile against his side. She wrapped her arms around his waist and they continued down the sidewalk and into the subway in their comfortable silence. When they reached her subway platform, neither one of them moved away from the other's grasp. As her train roared into the station, she moved to stand in front of him, keeping her arms locked around his waist. He followed suit and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, drawing her to him. She pressed her face into his chest and as she spoke, her lips lightly brushed against him: "Thank you, Elliot."

Even over the noise of the subway, he felt her words.


End file.
